by JoAnn Durgin
She pictured “Cooper” sitting across from her. Of course, he’d play devil’s advocate and challenge her with something like, “Just because they’re both wearing wedding rings doesn’t mean they’re married to each other. Maybe they’re brother and sister, both widowed, and it’s their weekly lunch date.”
You’re really going mental.
A young couple with twin boys sat at another nearby booth. The frazzled mother appeared irritated with her husband as he extracted one of the toddlers from his high chair and allowed him to run around the restaurant. Yawning, the woman leaned her chin on one hand, eyes half-closed.
Cooper came into her mind again. “Go away,” she mumbled.
“Give the poor husband a break,” he’d say. “He’s doing his wife a favor by having the kid run around. It’s depleting his energy and will help him sleep better.”
Two women chatted at another nearby table. They shared an easy friendship, it seemed. “Reminds me of you and Winnie,” Cooper would say. “Such deep friendship is a beautiful thing. Cherish it.”
“You would be right,” she breathed. Now you’re engaging in imaginary conversations with the man. “Ah, then, I guess I’m crazy.” Leaning against the back of the booth, Amy closed her eyes. Lord, help me help Tam. You know her and her child. Use me as Your servant.
“Are you okay?”
Startled, she opened her eyes as Tam lowered the bowl of soup to the table, followed by the plate with the grilled cheese. “Denton said you were over here laughing and talking to yourself. He thinks you’re a little off-your-rocker and told me I shouldn’t go anywhere with you.”
“I’m okay, Tam. Tired and a little loopy, that’s all.”
“That’s what I told him, but what were you doing with your eyes closed? Chanting or something?”
“Praying.”
“Oh, right. You did that before. You do that a lot?”
“All the time.”
“Why?”
“Because it helps calm me down and keeps me sane, no matter what it might look like to other people. Have a seat and I’ll tell you about it.”
“Okay, but only for a minute. You gonna pray again now, for your food?”
“I can pass on the prayer this time.”
Tam raised a brow. “You’re allowed? You don’t get in trouble or nothing?”
Amy swallowed her smile. “Tell you a secret. Sometimes I skip church, and I’m a pastor’s kid.”
“Good to hear you’re normal.” Tam grinned, sliding into the booth.
“Jesus is my friend, and I talk to him all the time no matter where I am. He’s always there, always listens. It’s really a great relationship when you think about it.”
“Yeah, He can’t talk back like a man usually does, right?”
Amy hid her smile. “Oh, He answers, but not always in the way you think He might. For one thing, He loves me in spite of the fact that I sometimes say the first thing that pops into my head, do some really dumb things and don’t always treat people with the respect they deserve.”
“Yeah, right. Like Jesus is a regular guy and you’re a bad person.” She shook her head. “Don’t believe either one.”
“Are you saying you believe in Jesus?”
Tam tilted her head. “Maybe. I don’t know much of anything.”
Amy took a tentative sip of her soup. “I don’t think you’re as confused as you act.”
“What’s that mean?” The question sounded defensive.
“Think about it.”
“Maybe I will.” Tam slid out of the booth again without another word or backward glance.
Denton sauntered over to her table when she started on the second half of her grilled cheese. “Enjoying your sandwich?”
Amy wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Yes, it’s very good. You can’t go wrong with grilled cheese. That’s my motto.”
He dropped into the booth. “Are you staying here in town?”
“Have a seat, why don’t you?” She needed to tamp down the sarcasm. “You know, that’s a good question. Is there a hotel nearby?” This kid was up to something and she needed to find out if it was what she suspected.
He nodded. “There’s a couple of motels down the road a mile or two. Not the best, but they’ll do. I’ll be happy to take you. You staying in town long?”
“Only planning on tonight and playing it by ear after that.”
“Too bad. I thought you and me might go out on-the-town sometime and have a real good time, share some laughs. Sophisticated city woman like you, you could teach me—”
Is that all these kids do—flirt? “Cut the act, Denton.”
His hazel eyes widened. “Whaaat?” He’d started to inch his hand near hers, but at her words, withdrew his hand.
“Admit it. You like Tamara and you’re trying to make her jealous sitting here with me.”
“I, uh,” he said, his pale skin flushing beet red. Underneath his embarrassment and faux flirting, he seemed like a decent boy. “Real subtle,” he muttered.
“Tam called me in New York last night. Did she tell you that?”
“No,” he said, staring at her as if he couldn’t fathom what would come out of her mouth next. That made two of them.
“She’s got a big decision to make tomorrow morning. I guess you don’t know that either?”
He shook his head and shifted on the seat. “No, ma’am.”
“Well, she does, but please don’t call me that.”
“Madame?”
“No, that’s worse. Call me Amy.”
“Nice to make your acquaintance.”
“You, too. So, here’s the thing.” He straightened in the seat again, appearing uncomfortable but attentive. “Tam could really use a good friend, a confidante. Tam called me because it seems she doesn’t have many friends in this town.” She almost slipped and called it a one-horse town. Even if it was true, saying such a thing wouldn’t help her case, especially if Denton had been born and raised here, a likely assumption. She finished off another bite of her sandwich. “Do you want to help her?”
“Yep. Are you like a mind reader or something? One of those ladies with a crystal ball? I saw you talking to yourself over here. Most people don’t do weird stuff like that.”
“Sure they do. If you don’t talk to yourself, you really should. It’s quite normal, and I highly recommend it.”
“How can I help Tam?”
Now he’s on the right track. “First, be her friend. Second, pray for her if you’re a praying man. At least you like each other and talk to each other about things, right?”
“Yeah. And I pray sometimes. I like to think He’s up there listening.” A frown surfaced. “Andy used her bad. I hate guys who do that.” Seeing Tam nearby, his frown eased. “She’s so pretty and a good person, but she’s had it hard.” When Denton lowered his eyes, she glimpsed his hurt. “She’s done some things I know she’s not proud of, but all she wants is to belong. Her mama threw her out of the house and her dad’s a no-good excuse of a drunk who beats on her mom. He’s in jail a lot, but that’s a good thing.”
Amy stopped chewing. “Does her dad beat—”
“I don’t think so. At least I hope not. You ask me, getting out of the house is the best thing that could happen to her.” Sitting back against the booth, he shrugged. “I guess she told you she’s pregnant.”
Her eyes widened. “Yes, but I wasn’t sure you knew.”
He laughed a little. “Kinda hard to miss. I mean, she don’t look it or anything, but she’s been throwing up a lot. She gets this look on her face and runs straight to the bathroom. She’s not eating much and yells at me more than usual. My sister had a baby last year, so I sorta know what it’s like. Babies are cool, though.”
“I’m glad you’re here for her.”
“Yeah, but a whole lot of good it does when she doesn’t see me as any more than a friend.” His eyes met hers. “I hate Andy, but I can’t ever hate a kid. It’s not his fault.”
&
nbsp; “Do you think she wants to end her pregnancy?”
“She’s scared. I told her we’re all scared, just about different things.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what she’ll do about the baby, but I want her to keep it. I told her that, too, but I don’t know what good it did.” His eyes met hers. “She called you, and that’s a good thing.”
Reaching across the table, Amy squeezed his warm hand. He looked up at her in surprise. “Denton, I think God’s brought us both here to help Tam.”
~~**~~
Two hours later, Tam approached the table wearing Amy’s former jacket.
“That jacket looks a lot better on you than me.”
“Yeah, thanks. Look, Amy,” Tam said, still standing beside the table, “I know this jacket cost some money. I’m thinking I should probably give it back to you.”
“As you can see, I have another one. I wouldn’t think of taking it back now.” Picking up the check she slid out of the booth. She grabbed her purse and the handle of her rolling suitcase. “Any suggestions where I can stay for the night?”
“There’s a couple of motels nearby.”
“How are things going at home for you? Have your parents—”
“I’m not living at home. I’ve been . . . hanging out with some people,” Tam said with a shrug. “My car’s parked out back. It’s not much, but it gets me around.”
Following her out of the restaurant after settling her bill and handing Tam the tip, she decided not to ask whether she had a valid driver’s license. “Help me find a motel and we’ll get a room for the night.”
“What? You mean you and me?” Tam scoffed.
“Yes,” Amy said. “Something wrong with that?” She wanted to make sure to keep an eye on her, and she wasn’t about to let her out of her sight until they could have a sit-down, serious, heart-to-heart conversation.
“No,” Tam said, stopping beside an old, rusty and dented blue Mustang. “I mean, I know you’re not weird or anything. Some people . . . well, you gotta wonder about them. You know?”
“You can trust me. I’m here to help you. No hidden motives.”
“The door’s unlocked,” Tam said as she tugged on the driver’s door, grimacing with the effort.
The passenger door protested with a loud creak. Reaching around to unlock the back door, Amy opened it and wedged her small overnight bag inside. She tried not to breathe in when she spied dozens of bags of half-eaten fast food, empty soda cans and assorted but questionable trash.
“Sorry it’s so messy in here,” Tam said as Amy climbed into the seat beside her. “I keep thinking I’ll clean it up, but never get around to it.”
“How many hours a week are you working, Tam?”
She avoided her gaze and didn’t speak for a few seconds. “I pretty much work a full shift.”
“How many hours a day and days per week?”
“You’re not my mom.”
Amy shot her a look. “I’m here, so answer the question, please.” If Tam wanted to play hardball, so could she.
“Um, almost every day and eight or nine hours.” She shrugged. “Something like that. I fill in for people sometimes. Look,” she said, “if you’re thinking anybody cares about laws or rules around here, they don’t, especially since I’m not in school anymore.”
Amy settled back against the seat and closed her eyes. When Tam started the car, it rumbled, sputtered and shook before lurching forward with a hiss. She opened her eyes as Tam pulled the car out of the parking space. The smell of exhaust seeped through the slightly open window.
The ride was quiet and they stopped at a small roadside motel a few miles away. Climbing out of the car, Amy stretched, feeling a bit stiff. Glancing around at her surroundings, she tried to hide her shock at the rundown condition of the motel, if that’s what it was—no parking lot to speak of with only gravel and large chunks of broken concrete, some windows broken out and cracked, and a sign hanging almost sideways outside a small building she assumed was the office. The place should be condemned. She’d thought the fleabag in Nowhereville was bad, but this was ten times worse. Don’t be such a snob. It’s only for one night. Your Savior was born in a lowly manger and He turned out perfect. Climbing out of the car, she spied a pillow and blanket in the backseat. Lord, please don’t tell me she’s been sleeping in this car. Anything but that. The heaviness in her heart told her otherwise.
“Sorry, but I can’t do it,” Amy said. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
Ten minutes later, after checking in at another, better hotel a few more miles down the road, she sat across from Tam in another coffee shop. “Can you tell me about your baby’s father?” Amy asked. She didn’t want to let on Denton already told her a little about Andy. Based on what she’d seen a few weeks ago, she was thankful Tam knew the identity of the baby’s father.
Tam sighed. “He’s twenty-four and works at the hardware store.” She took another bite of her roasted chicken and mashed potatoes. At least her appetite seemed good.
“That’s quite an age difference. I’m happy to hear he has a steady job.”
Tam grinned. “Andy’s okay. Really, he is,” she said, defensiveness in her voice. “Problem is, he has another girlfriend. We had to see each other on the side because she was getting all jealous and started making stupid threats. Real nasty stuff, too. Things you probably never heard before.”
“What kinds of threats?”
Tam frowned. “She kept telling Andy she was gonna tell . . .” Her sheepish glance was the first hint of shame or embarrassment she’d allowed. She drummed chipped nails painted red, white and green on the tabletop. “She was gonna tell his wife, okay?”
Quite a full card, Andy. As much as she tried to hide her shock, Amy wasn’t sure she succeeded.
“Go ahead with the lecture. I can tell you want to give it to me. Might as well lay it on me.” Tam sat back and crossed her arms, a sullen frown washing over her face.
“I don’t want to lecture you, but you deserve better. Hanging out with a married man isn’t what you need to be doing, especially at such a tender age.”
“Tender?” Her tone was full of self-disdain far beyond her years. “I ain’t tender nothing.” Her glare was rough, hard-edged. “I’m just a girl who’s halfway pretty and sleeps around, but I’ve been really good since you were here before. I’ve been trying to be discer . . . what’s that word again?”
Amy’s lips twitched. “Discerning?”
Tam snapped her fingers. “Yeah, that’s the one. I looked it up. Basically, it means I should use my brain and try to make good decisions.” Her lids fluttered. “Better decisions.”
“Have you told Andy about the baby?”
Tam snapped her gaze away and took a long drink of her milk. “He knows.”
“Please keep eating,” Amy said, pushing the plate closer to her.
She nodded. “Okay.” She took a hearty bite of broccoli and scooped up some mashed potatoes. “This is really good.”
“Tam, I have to ask you a question.”
“Okay,” she said. “You bought me the best meal I’ve had in months, so you’ve earned the right. Hit me with it.”
“Do you believe your baby is alive inside you?”
Tam stopped chewing. “You’re talking about conception, aren’t you? When it’s made?”
“Yes, in a way.” Amy nodded, ignoring the “it” part of her question. “Your baby’s gender is already determined.”
“Gender?”
“Whether the baby’s a girl or boy. Did you know your child probably already has ten tiny fingers and toes?” She paused, pleased to see she’d captured the girl’s attention. Finished with her chicken and vegetables, Tam put down her fork and leaned an elbow on the table, listening. “God knows every hair on your child’s head, knows everything that’s going to happen in his or her life, knows when he or she is going to start walking, talking, and everything else.”
“Here’s a question for you. How can you believe in somethi
ng or someone you can’t see?” Sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms, Tam fixed her brown eyes on her, as if defying her to answer.
“That’s a question a lot of people ask. Are you talking about your baby or God?”
She appeared to consider the question. “Both, I guess. Do you have an answer? I mean, one that’s not all religious and holier-than-thou like a preacher would give you?” She shook her head. “I’ve been to church sometimes, but I don’t get much out of it, if you wanna know the truth.”
Lord, it’s You and me. “Let me give you an example. I love art, and I see the most natural form of art in the mountains, bodies of water, snowflakes, the moon, the stars, a blooming flower, a majestic tree, rock formations, rainbows, clouds, the sunset . . .”
“Okay okay,” Tam said. “I get your point. But what does art have to do with God?”
“Everything. None of those things were formulated or concocted by some scientist in a laboratory somewhere. God’s touch is everywhere around us. He’s the original artist. Look around you at all the richness of color, texture, and the countless numbers of shades of one color. For instance, did you know the color blue actually has hundreds of shades? All blue, but different and every one incredibly beautiful and unique.”
“No, but I’d say it’s your favorite color.”
“It is, but I can appreciate the variety of colors. What I’m trying to say, Tam, is that I know there’s a God when I look at all the beautiful things He’s created. He made them for us, for our enjoyment, and He wants us to appreciate them. But I know He’s there in so many other ways, too.”
“You’re smart, so I want to hear what you have to say. Keep going.”
“I don’t have all the answers, and I can only tell you from my perspective, but God’s there in the trust of a child when he takes your hand, counting on you to help him across the street or read him a bedtime story; when an older person needs help feeding themselves because they can’t do it anymore, or when someone gives you a big smile and touches your heart in an unexpected way with his words or actions.”